Rebellion
by IrishPrincess7678
Summary: Full summary inside but I'll give you this: In which April O'Neil meets the turtles in a totally different way, and in a totally different New York City...T for language, violence, and such.
1. Chapter 1

_**Full Summary: For April O'Neil, all she's ever known was to never talk back to President Osaki, never go over the fence into the big building outside of town, and don't stay awake after nightfall. She knows she needs to follow these rules, but lately strange things have happened, like weird graffiti showing up on the walls in alleyways, or the fact that even the always-secret government suddenly is taking interest in her. Not to mention she hears things no one else does and the fact that she's the only one really curious about what goes on at night, when the world is supposedly faded into darkness, no one in sight.. And when she does find out, everything around her completely changes. Not just the city she once called 'home', but April herself...**_

**WARNING: DO NOT READ IF YOU HATE APRILTELLO, BECAUSE EVENTUALLY THERE WILL BE...maybe. **

**This is the effect of reading The Host, Hunger Games, Divergent, and a couple other books here and there. Not to mention listening to "Radioactive" a million times. So...yeah. Oh, and The Book Thief is taking it's toll on me, too. **

**This is also a different take on the TMNT world. Don't think of it as SAINW, because I don't think I could ever write a story about that and remain emotionally stable. This is just kinda what would happen if April met the turtles in an unstable universe, where it thrives by keeping secrets from everyone else. **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TMNT. JUST AN OC HERE OR THERE.**

* * *

_*Flashback*_

_"Miss O'Neil." a voice snapped from ahead, awakening a six-year old redhead from fantasy. She looked back up at the teacher, who was now pacing up and down the rows ever so slowly, trying to reach her while also keep an eye on any child who may cause mischief._

_"April," the teacher continued, her voice ever-so sickly sweet. "Perhaps you'd like to tell us what **you **are drawing for the class?"_

_The six year old gulped, swallowing all her nervousness as best she could. She really hadn't paid attention to what the teacher was saying at all. The last thing she remembered hearing was the teacher go on and on about 'what bothers them in the world' or 'what really takes their still-growing strong breath away'. _

_"W-well, I was..." she looked around the room, thinking about something to draw about. Something to throw her teacher off her scent, so she could go back to what she was doing. _

_Wait. April looked out the window again, having to hoist herself up a bit. Outside the window, miles away from the school but still seeable, was a building. Everyday, it had different color smoke coming out the top, different colors each day. Monday was white. Tuesday was a very dark black. _

_Today it was a light grey, yet she thought at one point it looked yellow. _

_She faced her teacher again. "I was going to draw the building over there!" _

_"Over where, child?"_

_April now sat on her knees, high enough to point out the window. "There." she stated, watching as her teacher followed her finger out the window, and she watched as her teacher frowned, walking over to close the blinds. _

_"Now, Miss O'Neil," the teacher began, pulling the string and watched as the blinds slid down, soon covering the window. "Why on earth would you be curious about that old place?"_

_The six year old gave her a puzzled look. "W-what do you mean?"_

_"I mean, out of everything you could be wondering about, **that?**" the teacher replied, now standing in front of the class, although she fixed her eyes directly on April. _

_"Miss O'Neil, I'm very happy at the fact you are aware of the world around you, but there is such a thing as being too curious, you know?"_

_Once again, another puzzled look was given. "Really?"_

_The teacher nodded. "Yes, dear. There are some things in this world not worth sharing to protect us."_

_"Is that what the building does over there?"_

_"Well..." the teacher stared down at her textbook in her hand, then looked back at the ever curious child, then at a picture hanging on the wall. It was of a man, who appeared bigger than the world. He seemed to be giving her a look as if to say, "Answer wrong, and I'll see your neck on a silver platter."_

_The teacher gulped, then put on a look of irritation as she faced the child again. "It is none of your business. Now draw something else. Perhaps you want to draw about why you can't seem to pay attention in class, hm? That's one of the greatest mysteries of our time, it would seem." The teacher then went to sit at her desk, giving the child one last glare before looking down, reading the textbook on her desk. _

_The child frowned, looking at the now blocked window. Her aunt did the same thing to her when she went home and would try to continue looking. _

_Everyone seemed to want to keep April O'Neil from seeing one of the most noticable things in the whole city of New York, with its strict rules, shiny subway stations, and, what else, more rules. _

_Everyone wanted to keep secrets to themselves. _

_And it's because of this April had a hatred for secrets since she was a child..._

_Yet this was the moment curiosity became acquainted with April, and it never left her._

* * *

"April? AAAAAPRILLL?" a voice kept repeating, startling me out of my daydream. I looked towards the voice to find a girl, a little taller than me, looking down at me, a small smile on her face. "Welcome back to earth, April."

I rolled my eyes, then looking past her around the room. Our whole classroom was empty except for the two of us, and our physics teacher, Mr. Delaway, who was grumbling to himself, avoiding all eye contact with either me or the girl by me.

My name is April O'Neil, and the girl by me is Irma, my friend. We're both sixteen years old, and we live in New York City, the most shiny and plastic place on earth. Shiny because this place sparkles under the sun, glowing and shimmering. Plastic because it's all fake. The smiles. The 'safety rules'. The 'love of the city'. It's all bull.

But try convincing anyone sometime. You'd think I just told them that we're all related to elephants and we're all doomed to roam in space, slowly morphing into a star...please, I wish.

I looked at Irma, who pushed her purple glasses on her face. "Did I daydream that whole class again?" I barely whisper, Mr. Delaway sending a glare at us as he opened his laptop and began typing very fast.

Irma nodded. "Guess so. That's the third time this week your mind floated off to another world, April. I don't think it's mentally healthy to do that much daydreaming in a total week."

"Then half the world needs to be put in a mental institution, Irma." I replied flatly, grabbing my textbooks and following her out of the classroom, my shoes squeaking a little as I walked out.

_Squeak, squeak, squeak. _My teacher looked up at me, sending me an irritated look, for how dare I disturb his reading of Gilmore Girls fanfic reading? I mouthed an "I'm sorry" and quickly shuffled out, closing the door silently behind me.

I growled. "Mr. Delaway's a jerk, man."

"I think it's just because he hates you."

"That's nice, Irma. Like you're on his 'a-ok' list, too."

"Well, I'm not the one who got too curious about something in second grade!" She did a little gasp after saying that, knowing about what happened back then.

I sighed, flashbacks hittting me from that grade where I wondered about _it; _the building still far out into the distance from New York. It had gotten a lot of opinions, and ever since teachers have made sure my head's in the classroom, not out in the air.

In other words, they're keeping my thoughts inside the box.

"Jeez, I'm sorry, April." Irma sheepishly added, rubbing her arm. "It slipped."

I shrugged. "It's fine, Irma. It hurt, but I'm too use to it to make a big deal out of it." Suddenly, a kid bumped by, causing all of my books to fall before me.

"Hey, jerk!" I yelled towards him, Irma kneeling down to help grab my stuff. The boy kept running, and it wasn't till after I helped Irma pick my stuff up that I saw what was going on. Down the hall, there was this big crowd of students, all dressed in their grey and gold uniforms, watching something.

A feeling in my gut said "fight", but there was no screaming or cheering. I looked at Irma, who just shrugged. I then grabbed her arm and we both made our way towards there, standing behind everyone as we tried to see through.

All we saw was this scrawny little freshman, waving his pale hands in the air as he continued shouting and exclaiming.

"-and t-then he just VANISHED! IN THIN AIR!" the boy yelled, earning gaps from the other girls in my class. I pushed through the crowd till I could get in front of everyone, and then I stared at the boy. It turns out it was Michael Hannan, a fifteen year old freshman who transferred here from Michigan, which explains why he is wearing different colored shoes than our dress code here. I know him because I gave his family a tour of our school and then I had to watch out for him. I liked to refer to him as "the little duckling", for he was tiny and a bit helpless. I can't say we're good friends, but we both respect each other, I suppose.

"Michael," I began, almost calling him by his nickname, "What's going on?"

"The mutants, April! I saw them!" he gasped, his green eyes growing wide.

"The mutants?"

" !" he yelled, once again gasps were heard from the group of girls, each whispering. "You know, the ones they say aren't real, but really are?"

"Psh, please." a voice interrupted, making us all look towards the lockers. Leaning against it was none other than Casey Jones, a hockey playing students in my Trix class. He hardly knows I exist, yet I use to tutor him in freshman year. I quit after he tried slipping a hockey puck down my shirt as an excuse to get me to take off my shirt. He never got it back, might I add.

"Those mutants ain't real, Bilbo Baggins." he sneered, poking his hockey stick in Michael's stomach.

"Oh, and you'd know?" Michael snapped, rubbing his stomach.

Casey shrugged, grinning to show off his gapped tooth. "What can I say? I think you've been in the classroom too long, or maybe daddy should stop tellin' you bedtime stories?"

Some snickers were heard from the group of students as they watched Michael closely, wondering if he'd make a statement. After a few seconds, Michael still remained quiet.

Suddenly I felt a hockey stick poke my rib cage, and I looked over at Casey. "What about you, Red? You believe the hobbit over here?" he asked me, nodding his head towards a still quiet Michael. All students focused all attention on me, including Michael. I could feel everyone holding their breath, wondering if I would be Casey Jones' next prey. Even Irma seemed to be inspecting me closely.

I bit my lip. I had heard stories about the mutants who come out at night. I heard that they roam the city rooftops at night, planning a rebellion against the topside world, but that was just a rumor I heard. I also heard they were ninjas, using the darkest shadows to their distinct advantage or something. They'd also manage to get food from the topside, making pizza stores sell out over night.

But those had to be just rumors, right?

"I...I don't know." I admitted, shoving his hockey stick away. "I don't know if they're real, but that doesn't mean they aren't. Michael hardly ever lies."

"So that means we should automatically believe him, then? Just because he's got a nice, clean soul?" Casey asked, putting an arm around Michael's neck, putting him in a headlock.

I walked over and removed his arm from Michael. "What I'm saying is I'm not sure, and we may never know if there are mutants at night. Maybe Michael's bluffing about his story, or maybe he really saw _someone _in the night, sneaking around."

Casey, after a moment, began laughing. "You do believe him! Your daddy tell you stories too, Little Red?" he soon began laughing more before he took out a hockey puck and slap shot it down the hallway, hitting the lockers at the end.

He gripped his hockey stick, then looking over at me, winked. "Thanks for the laugh, Red. You too, hobbit. We should do this again."

"In your dreams, maybe." I replied flatly, earning an 'ooooo' from some of the boys still surrounding us. He snorted, shaking his head as he then broke through the crowd, chasing after the puck.

"He's so hawt!" I heard girls giggling, the whole group of kids slowly breaking away, leaving me, Michael, and a frowning Irma.

"April, you know the mutants don't exist, don't you?" she half whispered, half talked out loud to me.

I looked at Michael, who was still staring at the ground, and shrugged. "Like I said, we're never too sure." I then put my hand on Michael's shoulder, and he slowly looked up at me.

"You OK?" I asked.

He nodded, softly removed my hand from his shoulder and sauntered down the hallway, his head down the whole way until he walked out the great big doors, having to push really hard as the sun soon shined down on his sandy blonde hair.

"Aw!" Irma cried, sticking out her lower lip in a pout. "Poor thing! He got totally humiliated by 'Air-Head Jones'."

"I know. It's not fair! What if Michael really saw something that night?" I insisted, following Irma down the hallway again, soon walking out the big, clear doors into the bright sun.

"I highly doubt it, no matter how badly I feel for him, April. The 'Mutants' are just a story to make kids go to bed, except they made it creepy when we were little!"

I snorted and lightly whispered to her, "That or the _President _made it that way."

"April!" she gasped, slapping my arm as she looked around at everyone walking around us. She then leaned in and hissed back, "Are you crazy? The Foot Police have ears, you know! Saying stuff like that on the street is _suicide! _We can't risk something like that."

"Irma, the Foot doesn't come out fully till night, and you know it. The worst person that could hear us is President Osaki's good-for-nothing, tool of a daughter, _Karai._" Karai Osaki, the only person who could probably morph into the Devil himself. I'll explain her a little later, for we're not there yet.

"Still, I don't want you taking any chances. The mutants, I'm not afraid of. The Foot..." Her voice trailed on, and soon she stopped walking and looked straight ahead into an alley.

"Irma? What's wrong?" I asked, waving my hand in her face. After a few seconds of me doing that, she finally grabbed my hand, and used it to point down the alley, where I saw a sight that made my stomach tightened.

For spray painted on a brick wall in thick, red letters were three words:

**_It's Not Real_**

"'It's Not Real'." I read quietly, still feeling a knot in my stomach. I looked at Irma, who's face was pale. I then looked back at the wall, making sure I had read that right.

_**It's Not Real**_

_**It's Not Real**_

_**It's Not Real. **_

So many questions popped in my head, but only two I could truly understand:

Who wrote this,

And what's not real?

* * *

**So that was chapter 1 of this story! **

**I hope it's alright! And this whole thing is set in the 2012 universe, except this is kinda my take on Irma too. My Irma is smart, a little sassy, and under the unstable setting, wants to stay low under the radar. **

**I also have April and Casey standing at an icy distance at the moment, but don't worry: they may warm up eventually to each other...and April's a bit more sassy and sarcastic just because. If you have any suggestions as to what should happen, feel free to PM me! :) I'd appreciate it! **

**Until the next chapter! **

**-Irish Princess**


	2. Chapter 2

**Didn't expect this much feedback, guys! But hey, I'm not complaining! :) **

**Thank you everyone! And guys, I finished The Book Thief and I'm now reading The Fault in our Stars. I heard it's very sad and awesome at the same time. **

**Good, I didn't need sleep anyway, honestly. **

**And for my other readers, don't worry: I'm still writing chapters for Of Love, Villains, and Late-Night Pizza. I'm working on another long chapter for that, so devoted readers of that, it's coming along, I promise! **

**So here's chapter 2! DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TMNT. Just a couple OC running around here and there. You know, the works...**

* * *

I had somehow managed to drag Irma away from the wall, putting my arm around her as I basically pulled her away from the sight.

"Irma, it's OK. Someone just...wanted attention." I tried to say, only realizing I've made it worse.

She began shakily breathing. "April...April...Michael..."

I nodded, knowing where she was going with this. "Irma, it's going to be OK. Remember the stories? They only attack when threatened by anything. I've heard they only attack criminals, not innocent people."

"Those were _rumors_, April. We don't know if they're friendly! I also remember in the stories that they attacked people, carrying weapons like swords or staffs or something! So yeah, April, they sound _very_ friendly." Irma hissed, ducking her head as she began receiving glares from people walking by.

"You sound like you've met them." I hissed back.

"So do you."

We were then silent, both of us walking down the street, trying to get the image of the spray painted wall out of our head. Irma seemed like she honestly wanted to forget about it, but for me? Well, naturally, it kept popping up in my mind, making me tune out Irma as she tried to make lively conversation.

I felt like that wall really was trying to tell us something. Maybe it was from...

No. No, I wasn't even going to think of that. They wouldn't leave us a message, would they? It's...they're just a myth! But the idea kept triggering at my mind, staying there, begging me to tell a soul. In which case is Irma, but I had already managed to make her forget the thing, and I'd feel awful to worry her more.

I don't need to lose my only friend.

"-and then we're going to the movies tonight and...April, are you OK?" Irma suddenly asked me. I looked over at her and smiled.

"Of course! I'm just tired, that's all."

Irma smiled then continued talking, going on and on about what she's doing over Spring Break. As for me, I planned on staying home with my aunt, reading all day, maybe go out for a walk or something, I don't know.

Spring break has never really appealed to me except for the fact that I don't have to go to school for a week at least.

To my luck, we finally arrived to my apartment, towering over us and giving off a glow.

I looked over at Irma. "So when are you leaving for Spring Break then?"

"Right after school tomorrow, so do you maybe wanna hang out later?"

"Can't. I have to help my mom clean up the apartment, because my cousin is coming into town, and I guess he doesn't like messy spaces or whatever bullcrap he said over the phone."

"Well, then I'll see you at school then?"

I waved as I opened the door. "Guess so! See ya!"

"See ya! And April?" I looked back at her. "Be...be careful, alright?"

I gave her a funny look, but nodded anyway. Sometimes I wonder how Irma and I even became friends. She's more of my mother than my best friend, always checking on me. She makes me feel like I'm a baby again, just learning to walk.

Except I already know how to.

After watching her walk down the sidewalk, I finally closed the door and walked up the stairs to apartment room 22b and opened the door. I poked my head in to see my aunt, looking out the window then focusing back on me.

"You took longer than expected to come home, April." she greeted me, nervously messing with her hands.

I closed the door. "I was talking to Irma, Aunt Karen. It's OK."

"But it's going to be dark soon."

"It's not even 4 yet."

"Oh, you know what I mean."

"Do I?"

She frowned, sitting down at the kitchen table. "So how was school?"

_**It's Not Real**_

"Fine."

_**It's Not Real. It's Not Real.**_

"Define 'fine'".

"I mean _fine, _as in people ignoring me, me passing my physics test, and Irma and I walking to and from school normally. Aunt Karen, if I may be so bold," I began, trying to talk a little like she would, "You seem to be on the edge a bit."

My aunt scoffed. "Heavens, it's _you_ that make me on the edge, April."

"You talk older than you really are."

"How old do I sound?"

"Aside from sounding all old-school high class, I'd say fifty, give-or-take."

She snorted. "Fifty? April, must I remind you that I'm only thirty-two."

"With the way you talk, yes." I smirked and walked over to the fridge, opening it ajar so I wouldn't be disappointed if I found it empty. "So when's that cousin or whatever coming' over?"

"Not till later." I could tell my aunt was looking over at me. "I still need to go shopping, so there's nothing in there today."

"Crap." I closed it fully, then began walking down the hallway towards my room. "I'll be doing homework, if you need me or anything."

"OK." I reached my room and closed my door, locking it behind me. I sighed, collapsing on my bed. I really didn't want to think of that weird message on the brick wall, but it kept interrupting any of my thoughts.

_**It's Not Real.**_

Whoever wrote that, I felt, wasn't pranking anyone or anything. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that it really was telling people something, trying to show an error we've made here.

But how come Irma and I were the only ones that stopped to stare at it?

I mean, c'mon. It was _right there,_ noticable for everyone to see! We couldn't possibly have been the only ones to have noticed it! Could Michael have seen it?

I sat up on my bed, looking out the window, mostly looking at the sky.

It's so big, so bright. They say "the sky's the limit", but I'm starting to wonder if that's even true. Does that mean that anything could have written that message on the wall? The sky's the limit. Could it be the mutants? The sky's the limit. Could you dye your hair rainbow and get away with it? The sky's the limit.

If that's true, then maybe the mutants really did it.

And they know something we _don't_.

* * *

A knock on my door stirred me awake. I groan and slowly open my eyes. I was surrounded by my textbooks, my notebook filled with algebraic expressions. I had fallen asleep, I guess.

I yawned. "Come in."

The door opened and my aunt's head poked in. "There's someone here you need to meet!" she beamed. I flashed a smile before getting up to follow her, playing with my hands nervously.

I walk into the living room to see a boy, a little older than me with dark red hair, sitting on the couch, watching a show on the TV blared really loud.

"Jack." My aunt yells towards him, only getting silence in response. "Jackson Henry Craler, listen to me now!" The boy, groaning, mutes the TV and turns around, looking at my aunt before fixing his eyes on me, looking unimpressed.

My aunt wrapped an arm around my shoulder, the first sign of affection I've received in quite some time.

"Jack, this is April, your cousin. She's been staying here with me for quite some time, haven't you, April?" my aunt asked, smiling at me.

I managed a tiny smile. "Since I was ten."

"Wow, so you've been in hell for six years. Good for you." he replied flatly, smirking when he saw me shuffle uncomfortably. Then, looking over at my aunt, he added, "Did you interrupt me to introduce me to her? Look, Auntie, I'd rather not become acquainted to my fellow prison mate at the moment. It's not like she'd have any wish to meet me as well. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to watch how Sherlock is going to figure this case out." He flashes a fake smile before turning around, focusing back on the TV.

I looked over at my aunt, who appeared to be trying to freeze Jack in his seat, hoping to shatter both him and the television. She only stopped when she realized I was looking at her.

She sighed. "He used to be living with his older brother, your other cousin Mathew. But Mathew went missing a couple days ago and well..." she looked over at my cousin again. "He seems to be taking it rather badly."

"How come we didn't know about this?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"I'm just as confused as you are, honey. Jack just showed up with a man by the door and they told me 'Ma'am, this is your nephew, and he'll be staying with you for a while.' He then shoved him in and closed the door!"

I gave my aunt a confused look. How can she just meet her nephew _today_? There's no way; even the government would've contacted us! They wouldn't have left him at our doorstep, like some orphan.

Well...I'm one to talk. I showed up in a similar way, except she knew _I_ was coming.

My aunt, looking at Jack then back at me, leaned in closer to my ear. "I was hoping you'd talk to him. You know what it's like, April. That, and make sure he knows the rules of the city. I don't need a criminal living under my roof." my aunt then pats my shoulder, squeezes it, and walked away towards the kitchen, soon preparing dinner.

I looked at the back Jack's head, hoping all the answers would spill out from him, but soon I found myself just staring at the back of an orphan's head. Would I call him an orphan? He does have _some _family, like Aunt Karen and myself, but his main family? His mom and dad? His brother? I don't exactly call myself an orphan, but it hadn't really occurred to me that we both are missing vital things in our lives: normality. You know, having a normal mom and dad or whatever.

Maybe this boy and I had more in common than I thought.

I gulped, then forced my feet forward, soon standing over the couch before sitting down, distancing myself away from Jack and pulling up my knees. I began watching the show with him, but I soon became lost, and it looked like it was just ending. I waited for a commercial before I began talking.

"So what show was that?" I asked, glancing over at him.

His eyes were still glued on the TV, but he responded, "Sherlock. It's this show on BBC that I guess the government lets us watch. You know, with all the 'don't be curious' bullcrap they've pulled all these years."

I silently agreed, but didn't show it. I just continued staring at the TV, then looking out the window. It was beginning to be sunset, and soon we'd have to close the blinds and lock the doors, just like every night.

I felt a shift on the couch, and I looked over to see Jack had turned to face me. "Look, don't think you need to talk to me or anything. There's nothing to talk about. My brother's gone, and I'd like to keep it to myself."

"But I-"

"Oh, please don't say you get it."

"But I do!"

"How? What could you possibly know about your family dying?"

"Like you said, six years I've been here! It's all happened ever since my dad died." I snapped, hugging my knees closer to me as I glared at him. Who was he to say I didn't get it? I do! I've lived with this grief forever!

Jack stared at me, showing no emotion, so it was hard to tell if I've gotten to him. "How'd your dad die?"

I shrugged, swallowing a lump in my throat. "I don't know. I can't remember."

"How can you not remember?"

"I-I just don't, alright? It always draws a blank on me." I replied, shrugging.

"That sucks." he mumbled. "My parents died in a car crash."

I frowned. "Sorry about that."

"Eh, it's cool. I've gotten enough sympathy to last me a lifetime." He then looked over at me. "Isn't that ironic, I have too much sympathy. Everyone was always feeling so bad for me, that I don't think anyone has anymore willpower to show any concern for me."

"That's not true. There can never be enough."

"Then why hasn't anyone said 'I'm sorry about your parents' in say, forever? You're the first to have said that to me in over six years, Avril."

"I'm April, actually." I corrected, soon quiet as I thought about what he said.

People haven't felt bad about my parents in a while. My aunt and I use to get home cooked meals everyday, along with cards and chocolate. People would actually look at me with sympathy, mouthing an 'I'm so sorry' or beginning to silently weep.

Strangers, for a split second, showed concern about me, and I've never really thought about it after they all stopped.

I looked then again at Jack. He smirked. "Got you thinkin', Red?"

"Aren't you a redhead, too?" I countered.

"Tryin' to change the subject, are we?" he chuckled, smiling. "Maybe you're not an airhead of a girl the men described you to be."

"They talked about me?"

He sat up straighter. "Yeah. They thought I'd want to know a bit more about my aunt and cousin, because I guess I haven't seen you guys in forever."

"You guess?" I asked, confused.

He shrugged. "You guys didn't sound familiar to me."

_**It's Not Real.**_

I gave him a confused look. "So you're saying I don't look a bit familiar?"

He shook his head, looking now at the TV.

"Not even a little bit."

* * *

After dinner, I went straight into my room, feeling confused and concerned.

Jack had said that he didn't recognize neither I or my aunt, even though he's suppose to be my _cousin. _

He is my cousin, right? I've had to have seen this boy somewhere, he's family isn't he? I guess I haven't seen the rest of my family for some time, but we had to be related. We _had _to be.

_**It's Not Real.**_

_**It's Not Real. **_

The brick wall image kept coming into my head, disturbing any other thought that would come up. But it was just vandalism, right? Some idiot boys from the high school were trying to scare some people, and by tomorrow they'd have cleaned it up, right? The government tries to get rid of anything that makes their city unclean.

Much like the-

Oh no.

Nope; not thinking about them. They are just a myth, like Irma said! They were just told so kids could go to bed faster, not even glancing at the dark world outside their windows. Sure, it didn't didn't keep me in bed, but for most kids it did.

If anything, it made me want to stay up later. What better feeling then going against authority?

Another thought came to me, but I quickly got rid of it. Jack just came here. There's no way he'd want to do something like that. He wouldn't want to. Besides, he wasn't really warming up to me, and it probably isn't going to be like that for a little while.

Then again, he was one for mysteries. He had watched this 'Sherlock' for two hours. It was now nine o'clock, and they patrol the streets for complete darkness at ten-thirty. Could he go for it?

I didn't will my feet to move, but soon I found myself standing up beside Jack, looking from the screen to him.

He looked up at me, confused. "Red, you're still up? Isn't it your bedtime?"

I glanced over at my aunt's door, which was closed with no lights peeking underneath. I then looked out the window, then at Jack.

I swallowed before asking him two things.

"Jack, how much of 'Sherlock' do you watch?"

"Enough to act just like the man himself."

A hint of relief washed over me, but I had to ignore it. There was no room for relief.

Finally, I asked him one more thing.

"Jack, what do you know about the mutants?"

He snorted. "Why, you scared they're comin' to get ya?"

I shook my head, and Jack's face suddenly became serious.

"Jack, I think the mutants are real...and I need you to help me prove it."

* * *

**Aaaand done! That took a lot out of me! **

**By the way, the thing about the sympathy does not need to be taken seriously. I wanted Jack to be a bit emotional and mean (maybe sensitive), and his rant is just his opinion that I've created. That and I heard someone sayin' that somewhere one time, and it got me thinking. So again, don't take it too seriously.**

**Not to mention I was somewhat thinking the same thing when I was really upset one time. **

**OK, I gotta go! See you all in the next chapter!**

**-Irish Princess **


	3. Author's Note: Important

**Hello, ladies and shellmen. Happy New Year!**

**I regret to inform that...you know what? I'll just say it: I have to go away for a while. I know you're waiting for updates from me, but some confusing things are going on at home, graduations creeping up and just...I don't know, I'm confused. I need time to think. You might see oneshots from me that explains something in a fictional manner, but I just need a little break. **

**I'm really sorry. Think of this as Sherlock: I'm not dead (but lately I've felt like I want to be) but I'm not. I just need time to think and clear things up. If anyone wants to (IDK if its possible) take over my stories? Nevermind. **

**I'll see you all really soon, OK? PM me if you just want to rant on me how I'm awful for leaving you in the dark or if maybe...someone gets it?**

**Thanks, and see you all soon?**

**-Irish Princess**


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